The terms introversion and extroversion are thrown around so often that you just accept them for what they are. Introverts hate people, extroverts love ’em. This is a gross oversimplification, obviously, but it is pretty close to the public opinion about these terms. Almost everyone has an idea about which of these two they are, and so did I…
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The introvert
My whole adult life I’ve been telling people that I am, without a doubt, an introvert. It made a lot of sense to me, because being around people takes a lot of energy for me. Only recently have I begun to challenge this notion of assumed introversion.
Today I was listening to a podcast about socially anxious extraverts and I felt quite heard. It tells about a kind of person who thrives on social interaction while also being afraid of it, quite aptly compared to “feeling hungry while being nauseous”. You have a drive for something that you’re actively feeling appalled by.
An extrovert with AvPD?
Does something like an extrovert with AvPD exist? It feels paradoxical, but it might not be. AvPD is like the nausea, telling you not to eat, but for me and a lot of others with AvPD, the hunger is there. And it is strong. We want to connect and we want to be around people, we just have no clue how to.
The reason I always called myself an introvert was that being around people caused me intense exhaustion. But that’s not really the case. Having AvPD around people causes me intense exhaustion. It’s the illness draining me, not the people.
Invisibility by crowds
A few months back, I went to London with my wife. Just like I have always proclaimed myself an introvert, so too did I tend to call myself a smalltown guy. I used to say I hated cities because they’re full of people, but the truth is I barely spent any time in big cities.
A few years back I went to Paris and got my first taste of being invisible in a crowd. There were people everywhere, but nobody saw me. I could’ve put on a clown costume and done summersaults under the Eiffel tower and people would’ve barely lifted an eyebrow. And it felt quite freeing. This year, with lots of mental work under my belt, I felt even more free in the streets of London. There were people everywhere, but they didn’t notice me. It was beautiful and I felt happier than I have felt in a long time because I felt somewhat free from judgement, a very rare feeling.
In my small town, people watch each other. I see them behind the windows when I go out to walk my dog, watching me. They’re probably gossiping about me to their partners. I know they complain to my landlord about how tall my grass gets sometimes, which means they care. I don’t even really mind their opinions, but I do despise this feeling of always being watched and judged. It’s what my entire disorder is based around. It makes it very uncomfortable for me to be outside around my house, which sucks because some of my hobbies take place there.
Being in the city once again made me realize that I may be an extrovert city guy that’s been forced into being a small town introvert by circumstance and a mental disorder.
Escaping the trap
The problem with all this is that these realizations in themselves aren’t really worth anything. I may have mislabeled myself, but I can’t just go out and be extroverted now. I’m still majorly limited by these thought patterns and internal beliefs that force me into an introvert’s life.
Escaping this trap is hard. Very hard. I know the life I want, but the steps to get there are so incredibly hard when you have all these self-created roadblocks to hold you back. I feel so very trapped these days. I’ve gotten better but I’m still stuck in a town, a job, a relationship that I sometimes just don’t feel at home in. But it’s taken me so much hard work and time and effort to get even these things that I’m too afraid to give them up. Is it all there is? Am I doomed to struggle and exhaust myself for mediocrity forever?
I do not have an answer to this and my therapist is on fraternity leave, so I can’t bother him with it. My head often tells me that I am indeed stuck here forever, but then again my head is not the most dependable source when it comes to the subject of me. It is the very thing that creates the roadblocks and mislabels me constantly.
Only time will tell if mediocrity is my final destination. The fact that there is no way to know terrifies me to no end.
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